Neither woman acted overjoyed to see her. Catherine felt that Mrs. Berkley still harbored bad feelings toward her because Catherine never asked for her companionship any longer. Truth be told, the only company she wanted was Nick’s.
Gertrude pushed away from the table and wandered to the window. Outside the clouds were dark. Off in the distance thunder rumbled. Tree limbs bent as the wind rushed through them. Against the window, the light sprinkle of rain tapped in rhythm.
“Today’s gloomy weather certainly fits. Don’t you agree, Catherine,” the older woman asked.
“Indeed, I do.”
Gertrude glanced over her shoulder at Catherine and smiled. “Well, we mustn’t give up hope that our loved-ones will recover from the incidents that have happened today.” Her voice cracked as tears gathered in her eyes.
Catherine stood and hurried to the older woman, giving her a hug. “We must pray they will have a quick recovery.”
The older woman’s lower lips trembled, and she nodded.
“Praying is a very good thing at a time like this.” Catherine’s father’s loud voice bounced off the walls.
Catherine jumped and turned toward him. He held a Bible in his hands, reminding her of how her grandfather looked when preaching his sermons. Inwardly, she groaned. Obviously, her father hadn’t honored her request to leave yesterday afternoon after all. How could she make him leave now when Grant and Nick lay on their deathbeds?
“Father, have you been to see them?”
He held a stern expression. His eyes didn’t give her any hint of his thoughts, neither did the straight line of his mouth.
“Yes. I have offered a prayer for both.”
She left Gertrude’s side and walked on shaky legs toward her father. “How are they?”
“Still the same. Grant is resting, but his breathing is shallow. Nicholas continues to show no signs of consciousness.”
Fear clutched her chest, making it difficult to breathe. Tears stung her eyes, and she clasped her shaky hands together in attempt to hold them still. She stopped near a chair just in case her legs failed to hold her.
Her father must have seen through to her heart, or at least read her mind. By the arch of his bushy eyebrows and narrowed eyes, she figured he must know what emotions ran rapidly inside her. At this moment, she didn’t care if he knew. She didn’t care if everyone knew.
“All we can do right now is pray,” he said in a solemn tone.
The next hour crept by. Gregg and Ian stayed with Nick or Grant, and they wouldn’t allow her to go into the room. Her father watched her with judgmental eyes and made certain she didn’t leave his side. It seemed she couldn’t please him...not since her mother died anyway. For being raised by a man of God who preached about forgiving and forgetting, her father certainly wasn’t practicing these teachings.
Finally, Catherine could stand no more. Sewing on her sampler began to gnaw at her nerves and didn’t help her patience at all. Her father read out of the good book while they sat in the parlor, but reading only managed to make Gertrude and Mrs. Berkley fall asleep. Catherine’s eyelids drooped, also, so she excused herself to go up to her room.
Once she reached the stairs, heavy footsteps thudded on the floor behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see her father, his angry eyes glaring right through her.
“I would like to have a word with you,” he said in a low voice.
“Actually, Father...you never have just one word. It’s more like several.”
He grasped her arm and pulled her into the library, then closed the door behind him. His nostrils flared. His eyes darkened.
Sucking in a breath, she clenched her hands. “What is it, Father?”
“I would like to know why you loosened the carriage wheel on Nicholas’ vehicle.”
She gasped and stumbled backward. “I beg your pardon! How could you think I’d so something so cruel?”
“I saw you leave the house last night. I saw you go toward the carriages.”
Her heart dropped. True, she went toward the carriages, but then ended up at the gazebo when she was looking for Nick. What else had he seen? “So you assume I tried to kill Nick?”
In two strides, he stood before her. His heated gaze nearly scorched her.
“I cannot fathom why you would want to kill your lover, other than you’re demented.”
She swung her hand to slap his face, but he caught it before it hit its mark.
“How dare you insinuate...” she seethed.
“My dear daughter, your actions speak louder than your words. Since coming to say at this estate, you’ve turned into a jezebel.”
Tears filled her eyes, her heart crumbling with each beat. Although he was so wrong about her character, in her heart she knew she’d betrayed Grant in the worst way. “And this is my fault? Have you forgotten who wanted me to come here?”
“Your mother and I wanted you to marry Grant.”
“Exactly...which is why I’m still here.”
“Yet you have been carrying on behind Grant’s back with Nicholas.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “If that’s the case, why would you accuse me of trying to kill him? Nothing you say makes sense, Father. If I’m having an affair – as you think I am – why would I want to kill the man I love?”
He huffed and raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. But you’re showing the signs...”
She blinked. “Signs? What signs?”
“Of insanity.”
“How? I still don’t understand.”
He growled and spun around, marching toward the window. “Your mother was on the brink of insanity right before she was killed. Now you’re displaying the same signs.”
Confusion clouded her mind and she wiped her wet cheeks. “Father, I wish I knew what you were talking about. Nothing was wrong with Mother. I believe you created these so-called signs because you were the only person to see them. Mother was a normal person!”
“You couldn’t see it. You didn’t know what to look for. I do. Your mother did, too.” He turned his glare on her. “First there was the incident with Gregg’s saddle. I believe you were the one to cut it. Then when the twin swords fell from the wall, nearly landing on Ian. The nails had been pulled from the wall. And now this with Grant and Nick.” He shook his head. “I will need to watch you closely before another so-called accident happens.”
She clutched the sides of her head, a scream ready to burst from her chest. Instead, she breathed slower, trying to calm the raging inferno inside her. “No, Father. Once again, you are wrong. I did not create those accidents. I love the Fieldings like my own family. More, in fact. Why would I want them hurt? Father, you can believe what you want, but I know, I’m not insane!”
She hurried out and ran up the stairs to her room. After slamming the door, she leaned against it and closed her eyes. Tears dripped down her face and her chest ached with sobs that begged for a release. But she wouldn’t. Her father didn’t deserve the energy crying would take from her.
Deep in her heart, she knew he was wrong. The confusion swimming in her head was because of him; not the dreaded disease her mother may have had.
* * * *
Catherine lifted her head from the pillow and peered toward the window through half-closed eyes. Darkness had covered the land as she’d slept the day away. Her father’s accusations and the confusion lodged in her chest had drained her of everything.
She scooted to the side of the bed and sat on the edge. A tray of food sat upon her nightstand, probably cold by now. Rubbing her eyes, she yawned then stretched her arms over her head. She moved to the washstand and splashed water on her face, hoping to revive herself. It helped only slightly.
As she moved around her room turning up the lamps, a light tap came upon the door. She jumped, her breathing quickening. It had better not be her father...
“Who is it?”
“Catherine, it’s me, Gregg.”
Her heart pounded in a painfu
l rhythm. Had he come to give her bad news about Nick? On shaky legs, she walked to the door and opened it. Only a few lamps were lit in the hallway, casting shadows everywhere. Gregg looked so much like Nick right now – his angular jaw, dark hair and fine physique. A lump rose to her throat, almost cutting off the air.
“Wha...what’s wrong?” Her voice cracked. “Is it Nick? Grant?”
He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “There’s still no change.” His gaze locked with hers. “I...I needed someone to talk to other than Ian. May I come in?”
Although it wasn’t proper, and Mrs. Berkley would give her a good scolding if she discovered Catherine had let not one – but two – men into her room, she opened the door and motioned for him to enter. The sad, lonely expression on his drawn face made her want to help; made her want to be the one to comfort him as he’d always done when they were younger.
He sat on the sofa and patted the empty space next to him. “Join me?”
As she stepped to the piece of furniture, the door softly clicked closed behind her. He looked at her differently now. No longer did he have the solemn glaze to his eyes. His lips were not pulled in a tight line, but relaxed and turned up slightly at the corners. By the fierce rhythm of her heart and moist palms, she knew she should tell him to leave.
When she reached his side, he grasped her hand and pulled her next to him. She hitched a breath and landed on the sofa, her leg brushing his. Gregg kept her hand in his, even adjusted it and entwined their fingers. Unease settled in her stomach. This was wrong. She didn’t have those kinds of feelings for him. Obviously, he didn’t feel the same.
“Gregg, I don’t think...”
“Catherine, I appreciate your friendship right now. If you weren’t here during this time, I don’t know what I’d do.”
She creased her forehead. Could she have read him wrong? Perhaps his intentions were proper after all. She swallowed the lump of fear forming in her throat and tried her best to smile.
“Although I wish your family didn’t have to go through this, I’m happy to be here with you, too. During times like these we need people we love around us.”
He nodded and squeezed her hand. “My thoughts exactly.”
“Has—” Her throat squeaked and she cleared it. “Has the doctor said any more about Nick?”
“No. Just that time will tell.” He shrugged. “Nick sustained a serious head injury when he was thrown from the vehicle.”
Tears stung her eyes. It was her fault he’d been leaving. If only she hadn’t told him to never see her again… If only she could have broken the engagement...
“Catherine.” Gregg cupped the side of her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. “He will be all right. He’s strong and will survive.”
“But what about Grant? Your uncle isn’t as strong, and you know as well as I this might be the very thing that takes his life.”
“Uncle Grant is not going to die until he knows Nick is all right.”
She gave him a smile. “You sound so positive.”
“I am about this.” He cupped her chin. “And you must be also. You must believe in everything good. Don’t focus on the bad.”
“You don’t know how hard that is, especially when my father has made it difficult for me to find my own pleasant thoughts.”
He pulled her against him, his arms tightening around her shoulders in a hug. For a moment, she wanted to forget these ridiculous ideas that Gregg might be infatuated with her and let him comfort her. But the moment she allowed her shoulders to relax, his hands caressed her back.
“Catherine,” he whispered in her ear, his lips brushing her lobe. Shivers danced over her, but it was nothing like the way she reacted when Nick did this.
“Let me help you forget about your father,” he continued. “I, too, have noticed the glares he throws at you, and I want to be your protector.” He pressed his mouth against her head in a light kiss. “Will you permit me?”
“Gregg...” She tried to pull away from him, but only managed a few inches, just enough to look closely into his face. His gaze dropped to her mouth and she panicked. “We shouldn’t—”
Before she could finish her sentence, his lips covered hers. She stiffened and pressed the heels of her palms against his chest, but he only tightened his grasp on her shoulders as his mouth moved back and forth across hers.
She turned her face away and his kiss landed on her cheek.
“Gregg, please don’t. This isn’t right and you know it.” Her tone of voice was stronger this time.
His breath fanned her cheek, hot and ragged. He leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes closed. Within a few seconds he pulled away. The look of love he’d shown only moments ago had been replaced with a scowl.
“I should have suspected earlier,” he snapped.
She moistened her cotton-dry throat. “Suspected what?”
“That you loved my brother more than me.”
Her heart picked up rhythm again, but this time for entirely different reasons. “Gregg, don’t be ludicrous. I feel the same for Ian as I do you.”
His eyebrow arched. “Ian? You think I’m speaking of him?”
“But of course.”
“No, Catherine. I’m referring to Nick.”
She tried hard to remain in control...to try and keep her expression solemn. He couldn’t know her true feelings. “Nick? Why would you think that?”
He stood and walked to her bed, stopping at the foot as he touched the wooden frame. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. I’ve especially noticed the way he can’t keep his eyes off you.”
“But...” She swallowed hard. “But I’m to be married to your uncle.”
He spun around and marched toward her. When he reached her he grasped her arms. “All that has changed. None of us expect him to be alive much longer. I’m certain Nick has fancied the idea of having you for himself, although he knows he can’t.”
“You are sounding as insane as my father.” She moved her arms and broke the contact.
He shook his head. “Nick wants you, but he also knows the woman he marries will have to come from a wealthy family. He knows I’m in love with you, Catherine, and he’ll do anything to keep us apart.”
She covered her mouth before a sob broke free. Tears welled in her eyes. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Nick could never be hers, even after Grant dies. As the one to inherit the dukedom, Nick needed to marry a woman of abundance...not a lowly Colonel’s daughter who’d been raised on a farm.
Spinning around, she blinked her eyes, willing the tears to disappear before her true feelings were expressed.
Gregg let out an arduous sigh. “Catherine, forgive me. I was out of line.” His footsteps echoed on the wooden floor, then his warm hand rested on her shoulder. “The truth is, we are made for each other. More so than you and Nick.”
An incredible ache grew in her chest, threatening to crumble her to the floor. “Please leave,” she whispered, brokenly.
He squeezed her shoulder. “Will you think about what I’ve said? I love you, Catherine. I have since we were children. I know my uncle will die before he marries you. When that happens, I want to be your husband.”
The catch in his voice made her heart clench even tighter. Tears slipped down her cheeks. She couldn’t speak due to the knot in her throat. All she could do was shake her head.
After a few moments passed, Gregg walked to the door and exited. Once the door closed, she sobbed into her hands, hoping to hide the noise.
He was right. She could never have Nick now. So why couldn’t let him out of her life?
Swiping away the tears, she gritted her teeth. No matter whom she married, Nick needed her now, and she wouldn’t let him down. Especially when his very life hung on a thin thread.
She took soft steps to her door then opened it. The hallway looked empty. Hopefully, Gregg had retired to his room and not gone to Nick’s.
On tiptoes, she made her way up the hall toward Nick’s
chambers. Nobody paced outside his door, nor sat on a chair as if guarding him from visitors. Her heart picked up rhythm.
When she opened the door, it made no sound. The ragged breaths coming from her were the only noise in the hall. A few candles let out a dim light over the room. The heavy drapes were pulled closed over the windows, not allowing any light to shine forth.
She needed to tell him she loved him and encourage him to recover. Even if she could never be his wife, she still had to do something to help with his recovery. If Gregg knew she and Nick would never become husband and wife, certainly Nick had figured this out.
Grant’s words whispered through her memory of when he told her about him and her mother. It appeared the same thing was happening with Nick and herself. Why was God allowing history to repeat itself?
Nick lay still as death on the bed. The cover had been pulled up to his bare shoulders, his arms resting on the outside of the blankets, one bandaged in white. Scratches coated his face and arms. A knot swollen on his forehead right above his right eye looked tender, and it was her first instinct to kiss it better. But she resisted.
“Nick?” she whispered as she slid her hand into his. She sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his hand. “I pray you can hear me, because I don’t think I’ll be able to say this again.” She swallowed hard and blinked back her tears filling her eyes. “I want you to know I love you. No matter what happens.” Her voice broke so she cleared her throat. “Nick? Please don’t die. You have so much to live for. You need to fight to come back. Your brothers need you. Your uncle needs you, especially now.” Hesitantly, she added, “I need you...to open your eyes and look at me and promise me everything will be all right.”
She bent and kissed his hand. “Please never forget I love you.”
Saying goodbye was more painful than she’d imagined. Her chest ached so much she thought she would die. Tears streaked down her face as she walked away from the bed.
Chapter Fifteen
The pounding in Nick’s head pulled him from a confusing haze. As if coming through a tunnel, sounds became clearer, as did the horrendous pain throbbing throughout his body. He recognized Gregg’s voice and Catherine’s father. A third voice he could not identify mingled with the others.
Love Me Always (The Fielding Brothers' Saga) Page 18
